Don’t be the globe, be Atlas awake at last

Remember what the shoulders can’t

Imagine how his swollen feet must have been

Lost in love for the fever dream

Even titan needs a hero

The god in man to pray to

Live through

Fight blue

All the victors can spoil history

Cut the whole damn cloth in a single string

The world of virtue is not offered to the dead

Instead bound to lift all humanity’s dread

Tomorrow is unable, unlikely to rise

Not without the punishment of paying for rotting lies

The king of the clouds knows only

His people’s fate

Penance and payment for choosing

The slightly wrong way

Only bite with the teeth you’re sold for

Remember what we said your back was built towards

--

--

We’re vile

Somehow justifiable

In our sickness

See this

Illness lives in

All people

And we forward

The hurt

from old

Scars onto

A new perp

Hold lies in an

open purse

Where the coins

Keeping rolling across

The floor

Always angry

At what we don’t know

Always hoping

For what won’t show

Up

And we still catalogue

It with the rest of the

Mayhem

Shoved to the back

With distraction

More smoke

More slights as joke

More choking ourselves

Out just to sleep

The illness of

Society

Is deeper

Than the skin

Of a sheep

Draped on the wolves

We continue to feed

Who howls louder

Than the victim bit?

What is more poisonous

Than barbed teeth

Who we love to watch bleed?

Sleep sickens

Dreams deepens

And tomorrow

We’ll awaken

Pretending that the

Fake and folly

Are not our ailments

--

--

Some Thursday nights I am so grateful

For silent streets

For him walking silently with me

Half bent over

Half winded

Sticking our new marks of

Constant fresh starts all over steel

Some Thursday evenings are morning

Fogged and forgotten

Forgoing thought in the sun for skin

And silent streets

Sometimes cup

Sometimes water cart

Some Thursday are plans

Best abandoned in a shut down town

The only ghosts worth knowing are

Our laughter

Some Thursdays we drip like

Ever after is knocking

On the dancing room floor

Liquid

Lost

More than love

We can move as if

Our feet have ESP

Only if the street whispers

Nothing but still kisses

On our shoes

Proud that while we can’t

Sit still,

We still ring each other’s echoes

--

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